Brooms Are Welcome In Cincinnati, Reds 9-3

Nice weekend for Reds fans. We got to see the debut of Ramon Ramirez, something I'm sure you've been waiting the season to witness. He pitched well enough to win (despite allowing a career-beginning bomb to leadoff shithead Randy Winn) before asshead(s) Bray and Lincoln gave the deficit back to the Giants. But, as we've seen so frequently this year, seemingly every day, Corey Patterson came to the plate with the game on the line and knocked in the winner. We'll omit the sarcasm from this one sentence, well done Corey. At least you followed your big hit up with today's 0 for 5, hey really nice job man.

Sanwiched around Saturday were nice offensive showings on both Friday and Sunday (Saturday was also a strong offensive game, but we're moving on from the description of Saturday's game). Eleven scored on Friday, covering up the lackluster performance by Volquez. Eddie E. hit a grand slam and Dickerson doubled, homered and drove in four. Those guys know what they're doing with the bat. And then today, Votto went 4 for 4 with 4 driven in and Arroyo looked like Ronnie James Dio and rocked it. Two run double, stolen base, and 7 quality innings. He looks like the guy that came up with a finger sign for the devil to be displayed at concerts which really rock. Reds! Reds! Reds!

Big Red Rant by Petey Hendrix - August 28 Edition

The author was thinking the other day that one thing this site lacks is a poetry section devoted solely to Corey Patterson. Fortunately, we have guest contributor Petey Hendrix who recogned this omission. Good work Pete.

Corey at the Bat

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the ‘Nati Nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Jolbert died at first, and Bako did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go. But Dusty had a wish
“I’ll send my secret weapon up to stand proud at the dish,”
He thought, "If only Corey could but get a whack at that —
I paid three million bucks this year, to get Corey and his bat."

But Edwin preceded Corey, as did Javy Valentin,
And the former was “not clutch”, the latter a girthy bean;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat;
For there seemed little chance of getting past Corey’s at-bat.

But EdE lined a single, to the wonderment of all,
And then the Latin Love Machine, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Javy safe at second and Edwin hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats or less there rose a hearty boo;
None of the Reds fans could believe was Dusty was to do;
We expected a pinch-hitter, to face the lefty specialist
But Corey, mighty Corey, was being sent up to the dish.

There was ease in Corey's manner as he left the on-deck circle;
He tugged his pants up heartily, he sadly looked like Erkel.
And when, responding to the boos, Dusty still stood pat,
Despite the trust of all Reds fans, still stood Corey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were rolling: three righties rode the pine!
To give Corey one more chance to top the Mendoza line.
Then while the relieved reliever exhaled heartily a sigh,
Marty snarled into the mic, “Why do they keep this guy?”

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
The gall of this owner, GM and manager does awe.
They send out their releases filled with promises that pledge
To give the youngsters playing time, to help them hone their edge.

But now with the game on the line, perhaps a win to earn,
To whom does go the at-bat with the lessons to be earned?
Not a youngster, as they promise, while they swear to you they care
Instead, Dusty sends up Patterson…it hardly does seem fair.

But toothpick in hand, he’ll defend himself, as Baker tends to do
With lovely prose that gives one pause, but simply is not true
He prattles on about how Corey’s the best choice that day
Nonsensically, truth rides the pine: “He hits lefties better anyway.”

Sneers have erupted on Reds fans’ lips, their teeth are clenched in hate;
They’d all give blood, each one of them, to have a youngster at the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Corey's blow.

And then with undue haste and verve the Cincy masses groan.
As Corey swings at the first pitch, no matter where it’s thrown
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout;
But there is no joy in ‘Nati — mighty Corey has flied out.

Original By Ernest Lawrence Thayer
Bastardization by Petey Hendrix

Fogg Strong Like Ape, Reds Weak Like Girl - Astros 4-1

The Foggster was pretty outstanding today, turning in a, wait for it, quality start! Big performance by the man with the tainted brain but the Reds still lost. Fortunately, with the limited arms due to Cueto and, a lesser extent Bailey's, injuries we'll get to see Josh again tomorrow and then again on Friday and Sunday. On Saturdays he rests.

Oswalt's voodoo curse continues to hex the Reds offense with bad mogumbo. They did get 6 hits, which is pretty good considering both Patterson and Bako were in the lineup, and briefly held the lead but in the end the one run is rarely enough to win. Keppinger stayed hot, looks like he's remembered the general idea when batting is to hit the ball in the places where fielders are not presently located. He'll have to carry things for a while.

Whoa Nelly, Let Me Tell You 'bout Bronson Arroyo, Reds 2-1

The Reds waited most of the season before logging their first complete game but boy what a time for it tonight. Sixteen games under .500, playing an Astros team which has been all but eliminated from contention, super talent Wandy Rodriguez pitching for the opposition. It was certainly, well, something.

Dusty's post-game comments indicated that he was considering removing Arroyo at the end of the 8th. That sounds very much like something he would say, he adheres to a very strict pitch count for his starters, so I'm not surprised. But Arroyo pleaded his way back onto the field for the 9th, retired the remaining Astros and sent everyone home happy. Chris Dickerson, contrary to reason, continues to find his way onto base. Two more walks and a hit tonight. He's really doing a fine job as the Reds' leadoff hitter. He reminds me of a young Corey Patterson, without the strikeouts, low average/on base percentage and at least some ability to hit lefties. We'll call him Corey Junior.

But it was Ryan Hanigan's second home run of the season which provided the margin of victory. I suspect, with his above average bat, he's played himself out of the regular catching role. Paul Bako is just too important to this young staff. A healthy bat is just going to screw things up, your job is to catch, only, all base hits are to be rollers into the outfield. None of that fancy "extra" variety. We'll ignore the 10 strikouts against W to the Andy. The Reds were just setting Houston up for the inevitable defeat. Reds! Reds! Reds!

Please Disregard Reds' Record, Play, and Management

With the Reds' season winding down and their performance becoming increasingly unwatchable, you, Cincinnati Reds fan may feel that there is little reason for you to attend games, you know, in person. I just can't follow the action without Thom Brennaman blathering into my ears. Boy does he blather. But, the front office wants you to disregard the price and, the near certain poor performance by the home team, and keep showing up and spending your money on the hot dogs and Dusty Baker endorsed erectile dysfunction medication.

The team of trained monkeys working in the front office have put their hairy skulls together and come up with some give-aways, aimed at both the casual fan as well as the hardcore nuts interested in receiving free crap. This installment focuses the popular recreation of your favorite player with Parkinson's: bobblehead dolls.

1. August 29, Wilkin Castillo: received in the Dunn trade, the Castillo doll prominently features his versatility, something being widely marketed to fans to account for the, seeming, pile of crap acquired in the deal. Pictured above, he's playing the position he's sure to excel at for years to come: left out. He can play 7 positions but doesn't appear to be able to hit at any of them. He did put together a .254/.305/.358 line at AAA Tucson before hopping on the bus and heading to Louisville. Reds fans will certainly enjoy finally having a Wilkin in the organization. It's been too long.

2. August 31, Steve Marriott: all Reds fans will remember Marriott, not only as a founding member of the Small Faces but throughout the 70's for his work with Humble Pie. The Pie rocked it, even if Peter Frampton was in the band. Baby I Love Your Way, was still a long way off. Steve died when he fell asleep with a cig in his mouth and burned the castle he lived in to the ground. But I don't need to tell any of you that, you're Reds fans.

3. September 6, Skyline Chili: Everyone's favorite sponsor and Cincinnati landmark has finally been made into a clay doll which you can either: 1) keep on you desk at work so people will ask you about it ;or 2) keep it in the box in the basement so it will retain its value until your wife donates it to Goodwill. Gub'nor Skyline will be on hand to entertain both the young and old and present you with your very own case of diarrhea. It's a Skyline specialty. Stake out a latrine early or your car will require an extended cleaning the following morning. It's Skyline Time!

4. September 21, Chris Sabo: to my surprise, Sabo has already been captured in bobblehead form. It may have something to do with the fact he played on the 1990 team or his goggles. Or, just is likely, it may be due to the fact that he is fucking crazy. My favorite Sabo anecdote comes secondhand from Ken Griffey, to the senior. A few years ago, when Griffey was a roving instructor, he was watching an affiliate's game from the press box. The game was suspended for rain and everyone left the field, except for Sabo. For the duration of the downpour, he remained in the chair in which he had been seated during the game, which was outside the dugout, getting completely drenched. Griffey witnesses Sabo sitting in the rain and says to the others in the press box that, obviously, Sabo is nuts but also went on to tell the story of the first time he met Sabo, during Spring Training in 1988. Apparently, prior to the game Sabo got dressed in his game uniform, sat in a chair, and spit an entire mouthful of chaw on himself. He didn't say anything to the rest of the team, just sat there and spit on the chest of his clean uniform for 20 minutes. This was the first time that many of the veterans had ever met him. Rumor has it, he also got a 1600 on his SATs. He's Cincinnati's very own Squeaky Frohm. The real-life Sabo will be there with the bobblehead, explaining some of the more confusing concepts of thermodynamics. He'd also be happy to show you his goggles, which, due to the advances in contact lens technology, he can finally wear on his testicles.

5. September 22, Squeaky Frohm: Squeaky's always been girl who knows how to have a good time and that's something that Reds fans can really get behind. Is it hot in here, or am I crazy?

I Punch Myself In the Face With My Fist, Rockies 4-3

The Reds held a million dollar bash this weekend in Colorado. Convincing lead reduced to three to keep audience interest on Friday; good start by Volquez followed by bullpen implosion Saturday; and team diagnosed with severe case of shittiness on Sunday. It may be worse than we thought, I think you should see a specialist.

Five errors boys? You can't even blame things on Patterson or Dick Pole. Special designation for Ray-Jay Bruce, 0-5 with 4 K's and two errors in right? You'll notice the disbelief by my use of the question mark. That is truly an awful game but, this is probably the year to get it out of your system. Actually, that's probably good advice for the whole team - if you're planning to have a horrible game at any point during your career, this is the year to do it. I know that Votto has been talking about setting the single-game strikeout record, with 7, next time the team goes to extras. Go ahead pal. And B. Phillips, we know you like to party, go ahead and drink that bottle of cough syrup before you take the field. You won't just be leaning on the home runs. Arroyo can throw at every member of the Pirates order who said that his album of well-crafted covers of popular music was less than fantastic. And Corey Patterson, you can continue to play like Corey Patterson, for the rest of the year. It's not going to effect your minutes or innings, whatever the expression may be.

Cueto's early exit was both unexpected and troublesome. How is Dusty going to wear his arm down to a stump if he's going to experience "tricep tightness" beforehand? Suck it up, kid and while we're at it let me tell you about the major league pension. Fortunately, Castellini summoned the Veggie Jet to fly him post haste back to Cincinnati for medical evaluation. We'll hear more tomorrow. Until then, Vinny Foggerrini is just going to take the mound every day, which he is fully capable of doing.

Reds Lose Quickly, Enjoy Big Sandwiches on Jack Nicholson's Boat, Cubs 3-2

The Reds don't really care for matinee games, just too early. How is, Nick Masset, for example supposed to hit the town, pick up some skanks, bring them back to the hotel for Miller Lights in the hot tub, and still make it to the ballpark by 7 am for pregame preparation? It's impossible. Fortunately, it didn't appear that the offense was affected. The two runs today doubled the series total, so that's certainly something. Way to be well below average guys. At least Votto's bomb went pretty far. Maybe it conked a homosexual on the head when it landed beyond the right field wall. You know, because Chicago's Wrigleyville neighborhood is home to a large homosexual population, therefore the chances of a homosexual getting hit with an home run would be proportionately greater. That would hurt something fierce.

The Foggster treated us to a short outing today, only lasting 4 innings. At least he was able to fit in a couple of bombs, including one by Big Z which proved to be decisive. Actually, if I were a major league pitcher, I think I'd feel worse about the fact that DeRosa went yard. Because he's a pile of trash and rooted against the Michael Phelps in the Olympics. Maybe he should find himself another country if this one's so bad. Traitor.

Prior to being lifted for pinch-hitter, Adam Rosales, Fogg informed Dusty that he had pissed his pants on the mound and his other pair was left on the bus. It happens some times, Josh. But no way anyone was getting him to go back out there for the 5th. The 60 pitches he threw were about the maximum he should be allowed anyway. There is still a good portion of the season left and we need to save his arm.

On a final note, I realize that the picture above is old and I've already used it, like the majority of the pictures which accompany posts, but, as was stated by an astute commenter at the time, that sandwich sure looks tasty.